Too
by AppleL0V3R
Summary: Collection. 2. Are You Serious - Then Smirk: It was moments like these he realized that he'd paved his own road to hell. And he hadn't even done it with good intentions. SasuSaku.
1. Nudophobia

**Title:** Nudophobia

**Author:** AppleL0V3R

**Beta-reader:** Terror-Of-The-Crimson-Night

**Fandom:** Naruto

**Pairing:** Uchiha, Sasuke and Haruno, Sakura

**Rating:** T

**Type:** One-shot – Complete

**Summary:** Fear of nudity "in my birthday suit"

**Word Count:** 2,071

**Disclaimer:** If you've heard of it before, then it's obviously not mine.

**Note:** From Sakura's POV

..:Xx0o0xX:..

Nudophobia is the fear of nudity and for some reason or another, that's the only thing I'm afraid of. Not the dark, not spiders or snakes or bugs, hell not even that burglar I had caught sneaking into my home. Nope, I just had to go and be afraid of _nudity_ of all things. Sucks, huh? Especially since I'm twenty-two and my one attempt at having sex ended in me running out the door. And that by the way, was with my boyfriend of two years. So as you can see, I'm pretty pathetic in this department. I can feel someone up or kiss someone stupid while running my hands all over them without a second thought, but the moment the cloths come off I run for cover. Once more: pa-the-tic.

What sucks even more is that I found a guy that I think I'm serious about. I really _really_ like him and I think he feels the same. We aren't dating, but somehow whenever we run into one another, it ends in us kissing at some point or hugging or something. So why we aren't dating is beyond me. He doesn't ask and when I get anywhere near, he finds away to distract me and change the subject. How he does it _ever fucking time,_ I have no idea because I even know what he's doing and somehow it still works. It's beyond me, so don't even bother asking what kind of idiot I am. Maybe he's afraid of commitment though. That could be it. Or even rejection. I don't see why though, I mean really, we've kissed more times then I can count and we practically live at each others places. So why does he think I might say no? On top of that, he's to confident to think anyone, let alone me, would refuse him. So therefore he has to have some kind of commitment issue or something.

Sighing, I tried to focus on the electronic paper before me. I'm a doctor-in-training, studying to get into cardiology actually. It'll be a dream come true, if only I didn't have to do all this pesky paperwork. I read a paragraph of what I've already written, but nothing computed. What the hell? Is it really bothering me this much? I looked out the window behind me. Yes, yes it is.

Knock, knock.

I jerked up right and straightened out, "Come in"

The door on the opposite side of the room opened and I found the gorgeous guy that haunts my thoughts day-in and day-out before me with a smirk on his features. I smiled, "Hey"

He nodded and eyed my laptop, "What are you working on?"

I scowled not liking being reminded of work with him in the room. "Assignment for class."

"Ah" and he shut the entrance door to my apartment behind him, shoving his hand back in it's pocket and treaded toward me, skirting the glass coffee table, and sat down beside me. "When is it due?"

My scowl deepened, "tomorrow"

"Are you any where near done?"

I turned to face him fully. What the hell is he getting at? What is up with all the questions? He's never been interested in my soon to be occupation or the work it'll take to get there. So of course, I could feel my eyes narrow, the scowl falling from my lips, "Almost. Why?"

His smirk widened, "Perceptive."

"So I've been told. What's with all the questions about something your not interested in the slightest about?"

He looked away, his beautiful, vortex-like, black eyes seeming to search for something to focus on so I would be able to get him to look at me all too easily. Okay, what the hell is up here? After a moment of silence I opened my mouth about to urge him on when he glanced at me, then back at the object he'd honed in on. When I followed his gaze I found it centered on a picture I'd framed of him and I. I remember that one. In fact, it was one of my favorites, which is why it's on a ledge where I'll see it at least once every day. It'd been one of the first pictures that had been taken of us. I was heading to meet Ino – my bestest friend in the whole wide world, she's like me sister, sometimes twin even – and I had spotted him, which had surprised me because I wasn't aware that we were going to the same collage. Anyhow, I'd thought it'd be fun to surprise him by jumping on his back, Ino wasn't to far away and somehow took a picture at the right moment. Because as it turned out, he had a large fan club and thought I had been one of said fans. So he used one of my arms to flip me over him and land painfully on my back with my arm in an awkward and very painful position. When he realized it was me, he immediately let go. Needless to say, I'd never jumped on his back as a greeting ever again. But it still was my favorite picture.

"How long have we been seeing each other?"

I blinked, then again and a third time too, just for good measure. Since when were we seeing each other? I never heard him ask me to be his girlfriend. And he sure as hell never let me clarify or anything. Okay, so scratch the commitment issues, and just place on the label 'touchy subject'. I should have known, he doesn't do public affection or any of that touchy-feely stuff. Oh right, he had a question. How long has it been since we first kissed? "Umm…like a year or so, I think."

He nodded. "So then, what about the next step?"

…What? Next step? As in getting married next step? Or as in sex next step? Now my insides were quivering with panic.

"Oh, uh w-what about it?"

He looked incredibly uncomfortable; I guess he's hoping I'll pick up on the signs. But damn it, I can't tell one way form the other! He shifted, "Do you think you're ready for it."

That told me one thing for certain. Which ever one the 'next step' was, he is ready for it, but he didn't know if I was. So the question is, if he proposed would I be ready for it? Well, I'm pretty sure I'd say yes. I can never seem to get enough of him. But what if the question was if I was ready for sex? I don't know if I am. I mean as I've stated, sex doesn't scare me; it's the naked thing that does.

"That depends on what 'next step' involves."

He turned to me, an incredulous look on his face. "Really?"

I nodded. "I don't know what you mean by 'next step'…"

Now he was starting to look more an more amused. And slightly relieved I could see. So he does have something against me rejecting him. I wonder if it's me in particular, maybe he's been rejected one too many times. He's gorgeous and true he could use some help socially speaking, but I just don't see someone rejecting him. Not someone in their right mind anyway. Quite possibly it could just being rejected by me then.

"Elaborate." I through him a glare at this one, can't he see this is really awkward for me? Or does he just find it amusing that it is? If it's the latter then he is _sooo_ going to regret it.

I huffed, just to make my point and find my answer. When a smirk found its way to his features I realized it was the latter. But as much as I wanted to hit him or do something punishing to him, I realized I was still off center about his demand. Speaking of which, what does he have against asking? I took a deep breath, planning to ask this question, "Is next step marriage or is it sex?" But that's not what came out. I hate it when that happens. And for one reason or another it's only around him, and therefore it's his fault. Damn him.

He blinked, obviously not expecting the bluntness. "You were honestly considering marriage?"

Now it was my turn to stare at him incredulously. "Obviously. Traditionally the next step after dating is engagement which is marriage."

He nodded. "I see. But no, I meant the latter."

Oh.

Wait for it, wait for it. OH Crap! And thus began my fidgeting.

Unfortunately my black haired partner knew about my habit of fidgeting when I'm nervous. He also knew I had an awful tendency of fidgeting before I lie. So true to his nature, he assumed the worst. The worst of course, being the latter which could only mean rejection. So he stood very abruptly and quickly started for the door, "Forget it."

"Wait." He stopped and looked back. Don't mess this up Sakura, I told myself firmly. It's okay to make a fool of yourself, just so long as you don't lose him. "I-I was fidgeting because–"

"You were about to lie."

I was on my feet in an instant "No! I'm nervous okay? I have one of the _worst_ fears ever and I didn't know what to say. Besides I fidget when I'm nervous too. You can't always assume the worst."

Now he turned around. "What fear?" of course. _That's_ what stands out.

I shuffled. He's going to laugh. I know he is. But making a fool myself is okay, right? If I can't do so in front of him, then who can I make a fool of myself in front of? So I took a deep breath and "Ihavenudophobia"

He rose an elegant eyebrow, "Repeat that, you were talking to fast."

He heard it, I know he did. And he understood it too, that bastard. I glared at him and tried to slow down my words, "I-I have…n-nudop-phobia."

He started walking back to me and I allowed myself to slump back into my couch. Once he was before me, "A little louder please"

My glare hardened. "I know you heard me just fine the first time, I see no reason to repeat myself twice more just so you can mock me."

He smirked wider, "I've just never thought you of all people would be scared of something like nudity."

I frowned, "Shush. I have absolutely no control over it."

His eyes narrowed then. "Though, I am curious as to how you found out you had this fear."

I shifted. "It was a long time ago. Nothing happened." He sat down beside me and fixed me with this incredibly intense stare. I pouted; I hate it when he gets stubborn about wanting to know things. So heaving a sigh, "I had dated a guy for two or so years, but when we tried to have sex, I ended up backing out, making a complete on otter fool of myself, and needless to say, we broke up within a week. Because apparently I had commitment issues or something. There, are you happy now?" Imagine my surprise when he started _chuckling_ "Sasuke! It's not funny!"

"I thought you were afraid of nudity, not sex"

I nodded in confirmation "I am, it was during the day. I could see perfectly fine, that's why nothing happened."

He shrugged, "So you're saying, sex is okay, it just has to be when you can't see anything."

I stopped. Wait. He's right, he always is. If the lights were off, or I was blind folded or something then it'd be perfectly fine! I whipped in his direction and kissed him. He kissed back of course, but it was a brief kiss. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a genius, Sasuke?"

Even though he nodded in that superior-than-thou sort of way, I found myself wary about the smirk that had 'devious' written all over it.

"Of course, you'll have to face your fears sometime, Sa-ku-ra."


	2. Are You Serious: Then Smirk

**Title:** Then Smirk

**Author:** AppleL0V3R

**Beta-reader:** SymphonaiFreak

**Fandom:** Naruto

**Pairing:** Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura

**Rating:** T

**Type:** One-shot – Complete

**Summary:** It was moments like these he realized that he'd paved his own road to hell. And he hadn't even done it with good intentions.

**Theme:** 30 Smirks LJ challenge (#28 – Are you serious? (~I'm dead serious))

**Word Count:** 1,310

**Disclaimer:** If you've heard of it before, then obviously it's not mine.

**Edited on:** February 25, 2012

* * *

One of the hardest things in life to do was forgive, to accept. Some had to work at it, some simply wouldn't even bother, and to some, it came completely natural. Sakura fell into that last category, well most of the time anyway. There were certainly a few exceptions – like there are for everything – and hers was Uchiha Sasuke. At the age of nineteen, she didn't quite hate him for all that he'd done, but she couldn't say she was okay with it either. Some of it was understandable, but some parts, she simply couldn't accept, let alone forgive. But that was alright she figured, because he wasn't looking for either one; he was just looking for a place to belong.

But unfortunately for him, Tsunade had decided that place would be at Sakura's side, living in Sakura's house for two solid years of probation and surveillance. And that was being lenient while taking into account all the good things he'd done.

So here he was, settling into his ex-teammate's home, resigned to the fact that the next two years were going to be hell. He could see all the signs in her green eyes; the way she stayed at least two feet away from him; the way she refused to face him. Her words were guarded, and he couldn't really blame her for that. So he decided he'd take whatever she threw at him because he probably deserved it. That, and he was supposed to be on his best behavior, even when it was just her and him.

But at the same time, while he noticed her undisguised caution and the tense set of her shoulders that never seemed to go away so long as she knew he was around, he also saw that she wasn't the same twelve-year-old girl who had clung to him and declared her 'love' for the whole world to hear at every chance she got. Time had changed her, and not because she got older, but because she grew up. And part of him ached every time he realized that if he hadn't been so blind, he could have been right beside her, watching her grow up. Helping her. He could have been part of a team, part of a family.

But he'd chosen revenge and solitude and power.

And he wasn't entirely sure it was a path that he could ever truly recover from. He would try though; that's why he was here: to make amends; to put the pieces back together as best as he could. Even if it meant suffering through two whole years of probation and always being further than arm's length with the girl who would have given everything for him once upon a time.

Stifling the urge to sigh, he decided it was time to change the direction of his thoughts to something more productive. Like how to stay on Sakura's good side. If what he remembered of her and what he'd heard about from Naruto was true, then it wouldn't be easy. Not with her hair-trigger temper. He risked a glance at the subject of his thoughts; she was across the room rearranging her things so that his could be added. He didn't have a lot since his clothes didn't fit anymore and he'd only ever held on to a few given things. And besides a picture of his family and another of Team Seven when it had first been formed, all of those items were basic necessities and things that she already had.

When she started to glance up, he turned his gaze to something else because he really didn't want to be caught staring. That could cause problems easily, and he didn't want that his first day back. It didn't help that he felt tense.

"Alright, so here's the thing." He settled his eyes back on her to show that he was willing to listen without objection. Anything to get her to see he was trying. "I have a few simple house rules. However, if you break them…" She paused, clearly intending to let it sink in without actually giving a threat. "One: do not break anything. If it's unintentional, then tell me if you think you have to and fix it. Two: no freeloading. I work my ass off and I don't want to come home to messes I haven't made or empty cupboards. Three: try to be civil. Pretty much Konoha's entire shinobi workforce knows my door is always open and they take advantage of it, so I don't want any of them to feel unwelcome unless they actually are."

When she didn't continue, he nodded, figuring that they really were sparse and simple. He could follow them. Though that last one would be tough, if he were being perfectly honest; nice was not his specialty. Which was probably why she said civil, and he could definitely do that well enough. Still he couldn't help but ask, "How much is it taken advantage of?"

Instead of getting a quelling glare like he'd half expected, she cocked her head and seemed to be seriously debating it. "Um, that's a good question. I suppose somewhere between every other day and weekly." The first thing to enter his mind at that was: hell.

This was going to be complete and utter torture; now he knew why the Hokage chose to put him here. If he managed on some slim chance to patch things up with Sakura, there would be a constant chance of ruining it because of all the people in her life. He remembered popularity from the academy and his time with Team Seven. Sasuke had not by any means liked having so much attention on him. It seemed that his new housemate didn't exactly relish in it either, but that didn't mean she wasn't the definition of social butterfly.

Ignoring the pessimistic voice that tended to dominant his thoughts, he told himself he could do this. So he was going to have challenges, didn't he like those? Challenges meant improvement; challenges meant something to focus on. And if they were daily challenges, then he'd always be focused on something.

He paused for a moment, unable to stop himself from thinking that _this_ was probably why the dobe was so optimistic. Positive thinking made life seem easier to get through, which would be great if that extended to actually making life easier. And that was why he was a pessimist by his blonde ex-teammate's terms. As far as the Uchiha was concerned, he was just being realistic and prepared for the worst.

He glanced around him at the homey living room that took up most of the apartment space, and then his black eyes settled back on Sakura.

He could do this. He had to do this.

Nodding, he told her solemnly that he understood her rules. For a brief moment a smile settled on her lips, and he was hard pressed not to smirk. He could still make her smile without too much effort; maybe this wouldn't be hell exactly.

But then she turned on her heel and headed for the door. "Well, I guess we'd better go shopping." Green eyes appraised his appearance. "There is no way I'm letting you continue to wear that shirt while you live here."

And the urge to smirk was gone. Who was he kidding? This woman was going to be the death of him.


End file.
